


Superheroing Does Not Come With A Retirement Plan

by Reremouse (TheBelfry)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, And Pepper is just so done with all of this, Background non-explicit Tony/Pepper semi-amicable breakup plot line, Hurt/Comfort, It must have seemed like a good idea to Nick Fury at the time, Loki fails to slink away, M/M, Marvel comics cameos, Mixed MCU and comics characterization, Odin's A+ Parenting, Romance, Tony fails to retire, Tony has a promise to keep, alcoholic!Tony, irresponsible behavior, tw: alcoholism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBelfry/pseuds/Reremouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd think blowing up his suits would be a pretty good indication of Tony's intent to retire.  You would be wrong.  Because apparently, being a superhero means you don't get to retire, and there's more than one way to save the world.</p><p>For instance, you could be the incredibly paranoid guy behind Avengers Tower, now the most weaponized safe house on earth, when Asgard comes calling with a problem prince and a deal in the middle of the clusterfuck that is SHIELD's utter breakdown.  Then you would have a house guest and a mission again.  What you would not have is peace, quiet, or any of those other things that are supposed to come with retirement.</p><p>Loki has opinions about this ridiculous human concept of retirement.</p><p>For those new to this story, the early chapters were the rough beginning of my return to fanfic writing.  I'm keeping them as record of my hopefully upward trajectory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Didn't you hear? I'm retired."

"Mr. Stark, you are a superhero," Nick Fury says on the video screen, impressively badass for a guy in a hospital bed. "With all due respect, that job does not come with a retirement plan."

"Permanent disability leave, then."

"The way I hear it, you're healthier than ever."

Tony doesn't point out that's something that can't be said for Fury.

"Is there such a thing as ability leave?" Tony looks at Pepper. "If not, I'm taking credit for that now. It's my new thing."

"You can't take ability leave, Tony."

"The hell I can't." He picks up an apple and takes a bite, because that's what able, healthy people do. "I'm a captain of industry."

"You're a member of a team," Fury cuts in, unimpressed with Tony's impeccable logic. "And the team needs you. And you can't just stick your head in a hole and pretend this mess is gonna go away. You're up to your eyeballs in it already whether you want to be or not."

"I'm benched."

Fury leans forward until his face fills the screen. "The world needs you."

"Mmnnn." Tony's putting on his scrunched face 'I'm hearing you, really,' look when the plate glass of his heavily fucking reinforced living room window cracks under the force of an explosion out of the idyllic blue Malibu afternoon sky because this is just his life. 

"Looks like duty's got your home address, Stark," Fury says, looking way too smug for a guy in a hospital robe as the screen goes black.

"Duty could use the front door for a change," Tony mutters, tossing the apple core at the nearest trash can.

"Tony, you don't do this anymore," Pepper says. "You promised."

It's nice, it's worried. It's sweet.

And he's pretty much going to have to be the asshole who ignores it, because the whole world has his home address. He puts a hand on either side of her face and kisses her, mouths the word "sorry," and says:

"Jarvis, break out the reserves."

"Oh! There's reserves now?" Her voice climbs while a second explosion rattles the window and rocks the floor. "You are the biggest liar, Tony Stark!"

He grimaces. "Just a prototype." He holds up a finger and his thumb moments before they're encased in red and gold armor flowing up from the floor. "A little one?"

Pepper's already starting to glow dangerously when the window gives with the third explosion and he staggers, throwing himself in front of Pepper to shield her from the worst of the glass. 

"I thought you said you'd given that up," she reminds him, shaking glass out of her hair while the cut on her cheek seals itself over as if it never was. "You remember, big multimillion dollar fireworks show in Florida. Making room in your schedule?"

"Multibillion," he corrects. "And my schedule is full of room. Full. So much room I had time to, um, experiment?" Its not his fault she hasn't looked at the books for that area of R&D yet. Judging from the look on her face, the oversight is going to be corrected. Really soon. "Okay, it's an unhealthy addiction." He admits. At least it's his own money. Okay, mostly his own money. He'll let Pepper talk to the shareholders. She's good at that, and saving the world as Iron Man is amazing PR. 

Does he even need shareholders anymore?

"Tony!"

"What?"

Pepper spins him around as if he's not wearing a quarter ton of suit and points to the guys pouring in the window. 

"Oh. Right. Them." He flips his visor down and targets as many of them as currently installed shoulder missiles allow for. Which would be all of them and their buddies just outside. It's gonna be a big boom. "Duck." 

She ducks. They don't. But they should have. They really should have. Seriously, is that the most menacing evil can manage sending him these days? 

He's retired, for gods sake, not helpless, and he's also really really over having to rebuild the Malibu house every year. "Jarvis, target everything in a half mile radius but hold the friendly fire." 

"Will do, sir. May I recommend notifying the coast guard to keep their distance?" 

"You do that," Tony says, soaring out the broken windows as the mansion bristles with gun turrets behind him. All he has to do is fly high and spot Jarvis while he takes out the baddies. And think of a way to apologize to Pepper. Again. 

A guy in some kind of glider contraption fires at him, and he blasts it down without a second thought. 

"Reserve power at thirty percent, sir," Jarvis warns. "Please leave the firepower to me."

Tony's eyes flicker over the displays in the HUD and he nudges the suit higher, putting the sun behind him. "Yeah. Yeah, no problem. I've got my eye on it." 

To be honest, it doesn't take long before the sea is quiet and the last flickers of the last explosion dies down. The barrels and turrets disappear back into the stylish Art Deco facade of his house. "Signs of life?"

"Only Miss Potts."

Tony closes his eyes and breathes a little more deeply. More normally. "I'll be right down." 

\--

Life goes on. 

The house gets fixed again. 

Tony apologizes sincerely to Pepper. Again. He's still waiting for a verdict on this one in a very expensive dog house.

And Pepper looks at the books in Tony's personal area of R&D, which goes about as well as Tony expected it to, and then, Tony finally gets through to Coulson, of all people, who fills him in on the clusterfuck that is what remains of SHIELD now that Hydra's been exposed. 

"I go and retire, and this is what you people get up to?" Tony shakes his head and leans against the penthouse glass. Some lost little part of him feels like the whole world started going wrong a couple of years ago and he should've paid closer attention. 

"You're a superhero," and Tony knows Coulson has that faint smile of his going on. Tony's got some deep seated issues with that smile. "You don't get to retire."

"I don't get to retire," Tony says at the same time. "I know, I know, fine. Okay." He sighs, just let's it all out until he feels deflated enough to ask the million dollar question. "What do you want from me? You guys know I'm benched. The reactor is out. Gone."

"That hasn't stopped Colonel Rhodes."

"Well I'm not Rhodey," Tony says, and even he doesn't know what he means by that. 

So it's weird that Coulson seems to. "That's why we've made other arrangements for you this time. There's more than one way to be a superhero, Mr. Stark."

"I've got one big project to finish up first. Do I get to do that, at least?"

"Oh, we wouldn't dream of getting in the way. This shouldn't affect your work at all."

Liar.


	2. Meanwhile, in Asgard...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on timelines... I'm playing a little loose with them. (Little...). Dark World ends about 6 months after Iron Man 3, and just before the disaster that is Winter Soldier.

"Are you leaving us so soon, Loki?"

Well, he had been, to be perfectly frank, though the definition of "us" had been somewhat smaller only moments ago. He puts the last book in the last satchel and vanishes it with a wave before he straightens up. 

It really is funny, he thinks in that instant, how words, by themselves, are meaningless, and only in context become a balm, a threat, an innocent question, perhaps a nightmare... But he doesn't turn around yet because he doesn't yet know which they are, or if they're something else entirely, and his life is about to take one of those abrupt turns for the worse he's so fond of. "You're dead." He feels within his rights to say so. "If I may be so blunt."

"It was necessary that you believe so," she says. "I'm sorry."

Betrayal, then. He drops his head but draws himself to his full height and turns, washing away the smile twisting his lips before he faces her. "You look well, mother."

"Thor believes you dead, as well." He supposes it's intended to be a reproach. 

Loki dismisses her words with a wave of his hand. "Thor gives up too easily." No one told Thor she was alive, either, then. Interesting. "Why?"

"Would the two of you have worked together else?" She sits on his bed and smooths a wrinkle in the coverlet with some strange instinct for orderliness; she never takes her eyes off his face.

No.

He doesn't see the need to say it out loud. They both know the answer. 

"Well," he says, before he can do something foolish like give in to the impulse to hug her, kiss her cheek and prove to himself that she is warm and alive, "As lovely as this has been, and as truly gladdened as I am to see you well, Mother, I must be on my way." He backs away toward the closed door.

And backs into solid flesh.

"Stay," Frigga says. "Please. Your father and I would have words with you over your changed circumstances."

"If it's all the same to you..." Loki squirms in Heimdall's grasp, magic flaring and fizzling. "What?" He looks down, eyes widening to find the green glow of his powers captured in a clockwork egg clasped in Heimdall's hand.

"Don't worry, Loki. It's only a trinket of your Uncle Frey's court." Her hand hovers above his arm. A gesture meant to soothe, no doubt, and failing rather spectacularly. "Its power won't last long like this."

"I see." He does his best not to tense when the door opens, but only Thor comes in, and his look of surprise is dramatic enough for both of them, really. Loki grimaces. "Hello, brother. Delayed flight?"

"Heimdall bade me return for matters of great importance concerning your death. And I see he spoke only truth." Thor takes a single step forward, conflict naked on his face. Under normal circumstances, Loki might taunt him for it, but really, what is normal anymore. "But how?"

He shrugs. "Jotun." It's not much of an explanation for Thor, perhaps, though it should be if he intends to do battle widely across the nine realms. 

Thor's brows furrow. 

"Always make perfectly certain we're dead," Loki offers as helpfully as he can, lips twisting in a wry ghost of a smile. "It seems we're very difficult to kill." He raises his hands. "It came as somewhat of a surprise to me as well, if it is any consolation."

Not that that prevented him from taking advantage of the situation the moment he woke in Asgard, wrapped in his burial shroud. 

And that, it seems, is what makes Thor's mind for him as he stalks grimly toward Loki, and surely Heimdall would let a man go rather than face certain death at -

Oh.

Thor crushes Loki to him in an embrace. "I thought never to see you again until the day we meet in Valhalla."

Loki gingerly lifts an arm to circle Thor's shoulders. "If you think to look for me there, you will be sorely disappointed, for I have no intention of joining the feast eternal after my death."

"Are you so sure of being one of Valfreyja's chosen?"

Loki shrugs. "That or Hel." It's a fair option, really. Valhalla doesn't sound much better, if he's honest. 

"Boys." Frigga lays a hand on Thor's arm before he can say something noble and ridiculous about stuffing one's face until Ragnorok in the company of the honorably fallen. "Your father is waiting."

\--

"No," Loki says, once it becomes abundantly clear the direction these negotiations are taking. 

"You would prefer your cell?" Odin hasn't taken his eye off him since he entered. As if he expects Loki to try something. He should know better. 

Loki never tries anything when Odin's looking, never has, and never will. "I've earned my freedom," Loki says instead of any mewling, defensive plea. "I fought honorably. I defeated the Kursed and saved both my brother and Jane Foster in doing so. I freely gave my life for theirs." 

"You survived." 

Loki clenches his jaw tightly enough to feel the strain in his teeth. "Not intentionally, I assure you. It seems someone forgot to educate me on the nature of Jotun healing."

"And yet, you survived to stand before us without seeing fit to inform me of your miraculous recovery." Odin leans forward, and Loki struggles not to stagger under the weight of his gaze. "I cannot help but wonder for what mischief you kept this secret to yourself."

"No mischief," Loki swears, forcing himself not to look away. "As I said, my survival was a surprise." 

"And your fight was honorable. Your brother was mourning you. Surely, you must have known you could, at least, go to him." Odin's words are a challenge, not a question, and they both know exactly why Loki told no one he was alive. 

There's no point in dancing around it anymore. 

He laughs, dropping his eyes at last and rubbing a thumb over his palm. It itches. "Must I?" His magic is still sealed in the green glowing egg now resting in his mother's lap. "What faith have I been given that I would not be returned to my cell as promised by my grieving brother himself?"

"That was before." Thor mumbles, shifting from one foot to the other. 

"He speaks at last!" Loki turns his head just enough to catch the shamefaced look Thor casts their mother. "Before what? Before you remembered I was more than a madman, once?"

"Before you proved yourself sane, brother."

"Enough," Odin holds his open palm out to Frigga, who places the egg in it. The green glow nestling in Odin's palm sends a shiver down Loki's spine. He turns the egg over, considering its delicate clockwork. "Perhaps your punishment has truly borne out some rehabilitative effect."

It can't be so simple. 

Odin turns the egg once more and presses the end. A tiny golden key pops out, and Loki holds himself in check against the urge to snatch the egg away. Now is not the time. "You have proven yourself the master of your senses, Loki, and proven your desire to overcome the evil which influenced you recently."

"But?" Thor asks, impatient as always, and for once, Loki is grateful. He isn't sure he could have brought himself to hurry Odin along on his own. 

"You are still ruled by your impulses. Perhaps dangerously so." Odin's fingers twist the delicate key. The mechanism makes a soft, musical ratcheting sound, and the green flickers, but Loki feels nothing from it. 

A hysterical part of him, which he keeps tightly locked down, wonders if will burst into song after Odin lets go of the key. 

"And you have made many enemies here in Asgard," Odin adds, as if that were something new. "So, of course, it would not be safe for you to remain here while you complete your rehabilitation."

What?

"Excuse me?" The words come out more sharply than Loki intended. 

Odin finishes winding and holds the egg out to Loki. It ticks quietly in his palm, and Loki feels no desire at all to take it. "Your magic will be locked within this egg for a predetermined period of time. During that time, you will have the opportunity to prove yourself worthy of our trust, as your selfless bravery has proven yourself worthy of our forgiveness. If the egg is stopped, your magic will be locked inside it forever. If the egg is destroyed, your magic will be destroyed with it."

Loki stares at the egg "And how, exactly, am I to protect myself without my magic?" 

"Arrangements have been provided."


	3. Chapter 3

"If it's any consolation-"

"It's really not." Tony pours himself a scotch, considers the god standing before him in casual metrosexual chic, and pours another, sliding it across the bar. Agent Coulson is a big fat lying jerk. 

Loki takes it and frowns into it. "No," he agrees," I suppose it isn't." 

Tony toasts him with his glass and drains it all, refilling it before heading for the workbench. He catches the clink of ice and sees Loki refilling his own glass out of the corner of his eye. It'd be a hell of a cosmic joke on Fury if the only thing he and Loki have in common is a penchant for alcoholism. 

The world is screwed. 

"So I hear you're not a bad guy anymore," Tony says by way of talking to hear himself speak. When in doubt, go with what you know, they say. 

"Mm. Something like that. They seem to have created a cozy clubhouse of two." Loki settles himself on a stool, swirling his glass and looking everywhere but at Tony, as if he wasn't interesting. 

Tony is plenty interesting. Also, "Hey! I was never evil."

"From what I hear, that's only a matter of who you ask, and where in the world they reside." 

Okay. Tony takes a nice deep breath. He can play change the subject, too. "Okay. You know what? I'm taking a lot on faith that you're not going to kill me in my sleep. And clearly there's no rider against you annoying me to death." 

Loki looks at him over the rim of his drink. "No death. You have my word." 

"I have Thor's word." Tony shrugs off the look Loki shoots him for that, not exactly feeling the need to psychoanalyze godly fraternal relationship bullshit right now. "You can't exactly blame me. I mean, aside from kicking your ass, I hardly know you."

He doesn't hear or see Loki move before he's leaning on the table next to Tony. "That will change, you realize. You may well have years to come to know me more thoroughly than you know my brother." 

Tony's getting ready to protest this "years" stuff, which is not what he signed on for when Loki continues. 

"And honestly, I don't recall you doing much ass kicking when we met." Loki's fingers trail over his chest, over the still-sensitive regrown skin-over-alloy where his arc reactor used to be. Tony resists the urge to smack his hands away. "In fact, you no longer even have the trinket that prevented me from owning you, body and soul. What happened to it?"

"I got better." 

"Congratulations on your recovery, then." Loki retreats to his stool and picks up his glass, carrying it to the bar for another refill. "And my condolences on your impotence."

Tony crumples the calculations he'd been working on a little harder than necessary and sets the whole room display into a spin when he throws them away. "Listen pal. I'm more than the arc reactor implant. Iron Man is more than the arc reactor implant. You think I need it in my chest 24/7 to be a superhero, you're seriously underestimating what I'm capable of." It's not the argument he meant to make, but he's going to go with blaming Loki. As excuses go, Loki's probably going to be good for at least 95% of all stupid decisions in his near future. 

Loki holds up both hands, full glass in the left. "Perhaps, but consider this, Stark. A hero is only as strong as his defenses." 

Tony holds out his glass, kinda curious if Loki will take the cue and refill it or not. "And that's why you're my guest here at Chez Stark. You're looking at the most heavily fortified, state of the art facility, civilian or military, the world has ever known." He sweeps the arm not holding his glass (still empty, and that's the answer to that question) to indicate the tower around and above them. "It's gonna take more than a godly madman, a Chitauri army, or even a Hulk to take down this baby next time. And next time, Stark Tower is prepared to fight back." 

He pushes off the table and drains the ice water from his glass, filling it with bourbon and a few more ice cubes. 

"The building itself?" 

"Smart tech with Jarvis at the core." Tony pops open a drawer and adds a cherry because why the hell not, he is a grown adult and he can do what the fuck he wants. "Fully hooked up to my personal interface. Think of it as really roomy armor."

"Impressive," Loki says in a voice that clearly says he's already thought of a big villainous hole to exploit. 

"Care to share your critique with the class?"

"Of the building's defenses?" Loki shakes his head. "I have no doubt they are most impressive. The Allfather would not have agreed to house me here otherwise. But surely you miss being a more active part of your own defense. The exhilaration of battle. The surety in your own strength, so different than... This weak mortal body." 

"I'm plenty strong." 

"But you are no Captain America. No Hulk. No Pepper Potts," he adds with a sidelong look Tony doesn't like. He likes what Loki knows about Pepper even less.

"And can I get an Amen for that?" Tony rubs a hand over his inner forearm. The recall sensors still itch under his skin sometimes, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't still have plans for them. Just - later. "I do things my own way, okay? 

Loki tilts his head, and Tony stands there, just being scrutinized or whatever's happening in Loki's mind. He goes for a casual sip of bourbon and tries to scrutinize right back, but all he gets is an eyeful of long legged elegance and a more amused look on Loki's face. 

Hell, subtlety never did work for him. "What?"

"Nothing at all," Loki says at last. "Who am I to question my host?" He drains his glass again and doesn't refill it this time. Maybe he's finally feeling tipsy - who the fuck knows - because he tucks his hands behind his back and strolls over to Tony and his work, green eyes flickering blue with the diagrams and displays as he takes them in. "I thought engineering was your forte." 

"It's my main thing, sure." Tony sweeps a bioscan front and center and explodes it to the cellular level, adjusts theoretical radiation levels and runs scenario. "But you know what they say, can't keep a good genius down."

They watch in silence as the Extremis-laced cells absorb the radiation and heal themselves for five cycles before settling into an absorb-only cycling, ending in a blast reading 3000 degrees exactly on the thermal scanners. Tony rubs his face and groans. 

"Is that not the purpose of a weapon?" 

"Oh, yeah, and it's a hell of a weapon." Tony polishes off his bourbon. "The real bitch is trying to turn the weapon back into a regular human being." 

"I can see the disadvantage in being this particular sort of weapon. Miss Potts, I assume." Loki sweeps his fingers through the virtual blast zone, stirring the glowing particles and doesn't wait for Tony to reply. "Would it not be preferable to muzzle the potential for the end reaction rather than to risk a cure that triggers it?"

That's - that's actually a completely fair and intelligent question, and it takes Tony by surprise. "Believe me when I say she doesn't want to be any kind of weapon. I promised to fix it. So I'm going to fix it." Tony scratches his hands through his hair and leans his elbows on the table, hands linked behind his neck. "Jarvis, reset scenario." 

Loki takes the empty glass from beside his elbow and returns it, full with fresh ice.

And a cherry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, uh, slowly but surely, the story totters forward. Sorry for the long delay between updates. Many things got in the way, as they do, and I let myself get bummed out over Fic-posting stuff I should know better than to get bummed out over by now. But then I happened to notice my statistics and realized people were subscribed and waiting and felt like a jerk for waiting this long, so here we are! Chapter four ready to go. Bear with me. I build slowly with this kind of story, but I've been told it's worth it in the end.

Loki remains unsure if this particular punishment is a true reprieve and opportunity or a trap wrapped in seemingly innocuous day to day challenges. He wouldn't put either past Odin, and he isn't honestly sure which one he would prefer. 

As he looks out over the New York skyline and silently watches two cranes and a carpenter ant army of humans work to rebuild one of the structures he is all too aware of his role in destroying, he wonders if, perhaps, this is part of it, this nagging prickle at the base of his neck. 

He rubs at it and turns his back on the window. "Jarvis," he addresses the servant who is everywhere and nowhere, "will we be expecting any other...heroic types any time soon?" 

"I couldn't say, sir." Jarvis's voice leaves Loki no clue whether the reply is literal or figurative. "The Avengers have quarters available on the floors below, but all keep other living arrangements and are occupied elsewhere at present, to my knowledge." 

Loki's eyebrows lift. "This is quite the palace for one man to go rattling about in alone." 

"With all due respect, Mr. Laufeyson, he is never entirely alone. Below the living and guest quarters, the first ten floors are dedicated to Stark Industries Research and Development."

"Hmm." Loki reaches into the closet and selects a plain black button down, putting it on and rolling the sleeves. He doesn't ask what Stark was thinking giving his servant leave to freely divulge information to a known criminal. But seeing as Jarvis is in an answering mood... "Where is he now?" 

"On the sofa in the great room." There is a prolonged pause. "Presently sleeping." 

"Oh." Loki gives himself a final once-over in the mirror and decides the ensemble will do, "is that what we're calling it these days." 

"Blood alcohol dropped below detectable levels between 11:50 and 11:55AM this morning, sir."

"Thank you, Jarvis. You have suitably restored all flagging confidence in my would-be jailor and protector." Loki waves vaguely at the ceiling, willfully ignoring the fact that he may or may not have freely refilled Stark's glass a time or five the night before as the holographic models for the restoration of Miss Potts became increasingly futile. "Well done." 

"My pleasure, sir," Jarvis says in a tone Loki can't quite parse between sarcasm and sincerity. He chooses to ignore it. It's only Stark he doubts. He finds he has no lack of confidence in Jarvis or the safety within this tower, peculiar though its quirks and habits may be.

It occurs to him that the AI has, perhaps, been the only thing truly standing between Stark's well being and the greatest dangers he poses to himself since it was created, and for a brief moment, he feels something akin to wistful envy that he might have thought of something similar once upon a time himself. 

It is, however, only a very brief moment. If nothing else in recent months, he's learned not to dwell on the past since there's always a crowd waiting in the wings perfectly willing to do it for him. 

\--

And so it is that Tony Stark wakes with a passable hangover to find the semi-retired God of Mischief keeping his hand in sans magic by staring intently at one pathetic mortal man.

Stark hides his face under a throw pillow with the barest ghost of a groan and flicks his fingers in Loki's direction. "It's too early for you to be this creepy at me."

"I'm merely concerned for your well being." Not at all disappointed that Stark isn't nearly as fun after his overindulgences as the average Citizen of Asgard. Or even Barton. 

"Bullshit." Stark pulls himself upright with a grunt and squints from beneath his hand. "Jarvis, dim the windows to 20%." He's hunched over the throw pillow and his eyes are limned in red. "You want to pass me that water bottle?"

Loki doesn't glance at the water bottle. He knows where it is. Right where he left it. Ever so slightly out of Stark's reach. He hesitates only long enough for Stark's mouth to open on the beginning of another complaint of epithet before passing it to him with raised eyebrows and silence that questions his upbringing and manners. 

"Yeah, yeah. Raised in a barn." Stark lifts the bottle to his lips and drains half of it in a long swig. "A fucking expensive barn." He pauses to breathe before draining the rest, rubbing both hands over his face and smearing droplets of cold condensation over one cheek. 

He scratches at the stubble on one side of his jaw, then the other, then scratches both hands back through his hair and stretches his arms over his head until there is an audible series of pops. "Okay," he says, hands on knees. "Okay." He shakes his head like a dog, and it's peculiarly like watching one of his robots come back online and through the test sequence the night before. "What are you smirking about". 

"Nothing at all," Loki assures him.

The look Stark gives him is blatantly suspicious. "Fine. But see if I warn you next time you've got spinach stuck between your teeth."

Loki doesn't dignify that with an answer, but does make a note to find out what exactly spinach is, and not to eat it. "I believe we have work to do, Stark?"

"We?" 

Loki shrugs. "I need something with which to occupy my time, and watching you sleep was, surprisingly, less satisfying than helping you with your current puzzle." He leaves out the part that once Stark finishes his current puzzle, he will need a new puzzle, and Loki has a very unique and intriguing challenge hidden in his belongings in the form of a golden egg. 

"Is this some kind of condition of your parole I don't know about?"

Loki only smiles. "There is much you don't know about, Stark."

"That's fucking reassuring." He levers himself to his feet and scrubs his hair into an approximation of its usual style. "Jarvis, help Dum-e get the coffee started. Full pot. Strong. And throw a few waffles in the toaster."

"Yes, sir." 

Apparently, Jarvis' helpfulness does not extend to preventing malnutrition. "Perhaps we can get to know each other better as we work," Loki suggests. He stops before walking into Stark only because he was prepared for some ridiculously dramatic overreaction to the idea. 

"You? Are actually offering to-what? Have a little kaffeeklatsch in between explosions?"

"If you like," Loki spreads his hands, not entirely sure where he's going with this either. But it seems like a good idea, and he's learned to trust his instincts. "You'll recall I promised you last night that you would know me better than you know Thor before my punishment is through." 

"Your punishment. Right. I don't even know what to do with you." Stark rubs his eyes and turns back toward the elevator. "You, Fury, Coulson, Thor... My life used to be normal." He stops, turns, backs into the newly open doors. He waggled his hand back and forth. "Eh, kind of normal. But. Compared to this? My life was Leave it to Beaver."

Loki follows him into the elevator, a vague yet comforting sense of a job well done settling around him. "Where's your famous resilience, Stark?"

Stark shoots him a dark look, marred somewhat by the alcoholic puffiness under his eyes and mutters something that sounds very much like "at the bottom of the pacific." The "Asshole" he tacks on to the end, Loki hears quite clearly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now that I've caught up with my imports, it's back to FrostIron (yay!). Thank you to those of you who have commented. Every one of you has made my day every time.

Tony takes long pulls of his fourth cup of coffee and vaguely watches Loki work while his brain comes fully on line. This is the part where Sober Tony's supposed to start getting used to Loki's easy camaraderie far sooner than either of them expected, maybe even discover they have so much in common he finds himself liking the guy. 

There's only one problem with that. 

They do have a lot in common, and one Tony Stark is one Tony Stark too many in this world to begin with. It makes all of his spidey senses tingle in the bad way. Or something. 

"Hey. What do you think you're doing now?" Tony shakes himself out of his downward sulk and caffeinated hangover to find Loki up on the platform throwing away half their latest version of Pepper's cure. "That one almost had it!" 

"Almost before or after the subject combusted and took out the better part of a city block?" Loki doesn't turn, but Tony would be this last bottle of Macallan there's raised eyebrows involved. 

"Fuck off. All we had to do was delay the combustion another three seconds and she would have made it," Tony says and winces. He doesn't even sound all that convincing to himself. The noise Loki makes doesn't comfort him either. "Fine, so it was as doomed to failure as everything else. What's this?" He waves a hand at the new design Loki's hands are mapping into life, shimmering blue in Jarvis' lights. 

"Magic," Loki says vaguely, "and science." 

"I thought you couldn't do magic." There needs to be a no magic rule in the lab. It's like sacrilege or something.

The grin Tony catches when Loki half turns his head is razor sharp and not at all friendly. "I am magic, Stark. It matters not what I can do in this state, only what I know and am."

"Okay, I'll bite. What are you, magic boy?"

"Magic. Or weren't you listening?" Loki doesn't even bother to look around, the arrogant jackass. He just keeps poking his fingers into the light and making little hm sounds. Tony hates when people who aren't him make hm sounds in his lab. 

"And here I thought we were supposed to be getting to know one another and become best friends." Tony clasps his hands together and narrows his eyes at Loki's new plans. "Hang on. That second sample. Where did it come from?"

"It is a sequence I isolated from my own DNA, which I believe may function as a viable fix when switched with the problem code you have already isolated in her Extemis-altered state, but cannot remove without drastic consequences." 

Tony holds up a hand. "Wait. What? No." He shakes his head. "No." 

"You haven't even run the simulation yet, Stark," Loki points out in a too-reasonable voice.

"Because we're not using it." Tony stomps up the stairs to the platform until he's staring up at Loki from close range. "If you think for one hot second I'm going to let you stick anything of yours inside Pepper, you've got another think coming." 

Loki looks too amused by half. "Care to rephrase that, Stark?" 

"No I do not care to rephrase that." Tony pokes a finger into the middle of Loki's chest. "In fact, I'm making it a blanket rule."

"Even if it were the only means to save her?" 

"You know what, tall, dark, and impotent? I'm thinking about the last thing Pepper needs in her life right now is the dubious salvation of kinky demigod sex." Tony pokes him once more so hard Loki rocks on his feet. 

The god holds his glare for long moments before turning away and doubling over with laughter. "By the nine," he says, wheezing for air once he's down to definitely unmanly giggles. "You mortals are the most ridiculous creatures in all the realms. I meant only the CODE, Stark. A small sequence, which would no more turn her into one of my kind than inserting a few lines of human code into a lab rat turns it into a man." 

Tony feels like he's being condescended to, and he hates that even more than he hates everything else that's happened in the last few days. 

And that's his only excuse for why Loki gets away with saying, "Jarvis, if you please, run the simulation." 

\--

"I don't understand your problem, Stark," Loki calls, following him up the stairs at a more leisurely pace. His voice, unfortunately carries. 

Tony has time to pour himself a highball glass full of whisky before Loki himself appears. "My problem," Tony makes air quotes with one hand and the highball glass, "is that she turned blue."

"Merely a temporary side effect." Loki waves a hand and throws himself onto the couch.

"Blue," Tony says with emphasis.

Loki's eyes narrow. "Do you have a problem with blue skin, Mr. Stark?" 

Tony downs a good half his drink. "On Pepper? You better believe I do." He collapses onto the opposite end of the couch and rests the cool glass against his forehead. 

"The blue is only a cosmetic defect. We could render her stable at any time."

"Stable and blue." Tony doesn't open his eyes.

"Only when provoked."  
Tony muffles a helpless and inappropriately amused noise. "She's going to be blue forever. I'll have to fire her and send her to Hawaii all expenses paid. I don't want to fire her."

Loki makes a deeply unimpressed huff. "So the formula needs tinkering with. A bit."

"Blue and she froze the entire platform."

The huff turns into a growl. "And nothing nothing exploded. No one died. Not even a bit of property damage. Are you always so difficult to please?" 

That's enough to convince Tony to open his eyes if only to stare at Loki in disbelief. He finds the god slouched back into the corner of the couch, arms folded tightly against his chest and glowering into the middle distance. "What's it to you if I fix Pepper anyway?"

Loki turns his face away with a vague shrug and all of his tense lines loosen at once until he's back to that elegant sprawl. "Once I put my mind to a task, I dislike leaving it unresolved." 

Tony looks him over, waiting for the catch or the tell. Granted, God of Lies, so it'd take a higher grade of liar than Tony to spot all the guy's tells. Still... "Okay," he agrees, because seriously, his head hurts too much, and Loki did just move the project further in 24 hours than Tony's gotten in a week. "I'm an asshole," he says, by way of conversation. 

Loki makes a vague snort. "Really."

"It's one of my top ten traits. Maybe even top three." It's as close as he'll come to saying "sorry" and definitely as close as he wants to come to admitting that maybe he just doesn't like feeling as if he's not the smartest guy in the room. And because he's not admitting that, he moves on with, "So, tinkering. Talk at me. What do you have in mind?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did some rewriting of chapter one and three. Just a bit for continuity and improved flow. Thanks to everyone reading for bearing with me getting back into the swing of this writerly thing.

Stark's capitulation is as capricious as the breeze, so Loki pushes what advantage he has while he has it. "I see only one true fault in the current design," he begins, and continues talking over his inevitable objection. "The ice, unrestrained, is inconvenient." 

"Inconvenient," Tony says, clearly restraining the urge to revert to petulance. "Freezing hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of equipment was inconvenient."

"It was a simulation, Stark. And inconvenient as in causing frost bite to the flesh of gods and men on contact." Loki narrows his eyes, enjoying the flinch too much not to add, "imagine if that were to happen while in, let us say, an intimate position."

Stark holds up a hand. "Nuh uh. No. Wrong. That's not inconvenient. That's a catastrophic failure."

"For you or for her?"

"For both of us." He grimaces. "Okay, parts of us more than others."

Loki tilts his head, replaying all of Stark's objections in his mind. "Stark," he says eventually and waits until he has his full attention. "Have you thought to give Miss Potts her own agency in deciding what cure is sufficient for her condition?"

"Oh, sure. I mean, once we have a cure. And that, tall, pale, and grumpy," Stark points a finger at him, "is not a cure."

"Of course it isn't," Loki says, and holds up a forestalling hand. "It will be a cure once she has control, and I have already told you I intend to see that she does. I fail to see your objection."

"My objection is this isn't good enough!" Stark's voice rises, as if volume alone will give weight to a flimsy argument. Loki turns his back on him, walking to the window to stare out across New York rather than give him the satisfaction of more attention than his objection deserves.

"I repeat, Stark, have you thought to give her the chance to decide what is good enough for her?" Loki speaks only as loudly as needed for Stark to hear him. "Does she know that you are hiding yourself away in your workshop playing god with her fate?" 

"I'm keeping my promise to her." A bottle clinks against the rim of a glass. "You'd know about playing god."

"I do not play." He glances aside to see Stark staring at him over the rim of his glass. It is not a particularly friendly stare. 

"No, you just waltz into other people's lives and get your godly fingerprints all over things that are none of your business." He takes another drink, and Loki considers what was not said. 

"Like New York?" Loki asks out of genuine curiosity. 

"Uh," Stark blinks once, slowly. "I want to say yes, but I'm not that big a hypocrite. It doesn't take a god to destroy things on a grand scale," he says with a peculiar mixture of pride and loathing. 

"But it helps," Loki feels compelled to point out. "Being a god." 

"Aren't you supposed to be reformed?" 

Loki shrugs and resumes staring out the window. "Of course," the reply is automatic. "But I'm still a god. You can't take that part away, Stark, and even benevolent gods have been known to wreak their share of havoc."

"You're an entitled lunatic," Stark mutters and drains the glass. 

"Says the man who will not give one woman a voice in her own fate. A woman he purports to love." Loki tucks his hands behind his back, watching Stark's faint reflection in the window glass. "Not terribly progressive of you." 

"I've been accused of worse." Stark sets the glass down and runs both hands through his hair. "By Pepper even. Recently." 

"Perhaps you prefer keeping her intimately tied to you the only way you now know how," Loki curls his fingers around the other wrist. "Through her mortal peril, yourself as her savior as you feel her affections and patience slipping through your grasp." He let's the statement hang in here air, content to wait as long as necessary for Stark to find his tongue. 

"Okay. Listen up, Orange is the New Black, because I'm going to say this only once, and if you want to keep a safe house roof over your head, you're gonna listen." Stark waits until Loki shrugs before he continues. "First, I don't allow anyone to put my friends in danger. Not even me. And Pepper is pretty much friend number one on that list. If you do anything to put her in harm's way, being out on the street without your powers will be the least of your worries. And second, you don't know anything about me and Pepper. So the psychoanalysis ends here. Got it?"

Loki raises his hands, wearing the most innocent expression he can muster. "Very well, Stark. Miss Potts will be in no danger from me. Nor will your delicate sensibilities." 

"Mm hmm. Yeah." He folds his arms across his chest, leaning back in his chair. "You know, that wasn't all that convincing."

"I can swear to it, if you like. It makes no difference to me." 

"Then why should it make a difference to me?" 

"I am bound by my oaths. In that, at least, I am no different from any other in Asgard." Loki sighs. "You may ask Thor if you do not believe me." 

"How about this?" Stark pushes himself out of his chair and crosses to Loki, tilting his chin until he's staring straight into his eyes. "You swear now, and I follow up with Thor. If you're lying, I put on the suit and kick your ass." 

It's so charmingly, ridiculously, arrogantly belligerent, Loki can't help but smile. "I accept your terms. And you have my oath that I will not endanger Miss Potts."

He keeps his face carefully neutral while Stark examines him for possible falsehood. Stark lets out a huff of breath and turns to stare out the window next to him. "Okay. Good." 

 --

"I have to admit, this isn't exactly what I expected when Tony accepted a new mission." Pepper Potts stands in the doorway to the lab, arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face as she takes in Loki and his work. 

"We're you expecting something with more explosions?" Loki swivels the chair around to face her, allowing himself a small wry smile. 

"Explosions are normal for Tony. I was expecting something maybe with less evil houseguest."

"You wound me, Miss Potts. I'm here for my own protection, courtesy of SHIELD." He gestures at a chair but doesn't wait to see whether or not she will sit. It's meant as a show of trust, unconcern for the threat she poses. 

"So what are you doing in Tony's lab, and what does it have to do with me?" She remains standing, and Loki listens to the gentle tap of her heels as she prowls the work area. 

"Earning my keep." Loki turns off the small projection he's been working on and expands the experimental scenario to fill the room. "Jarvis, run the program, if you will."

"From the beginning, I assume, Mr. Laufeyson."

"Please." 

He feels Her coming closer behind him, drawn to the display in spite of her wariness. "What is this?" The blue glow reflects in her eyes. 

"I believe you know the answer," Loki says as they watch the undeniably female figure at the center of the scenario flare first hot then abruptly cold, icing over in a frosted cocoon. From within the ice, heat flickers outward along her limbs until the entire structure glows bright orange at the heart. 

And then the heart dims to a deep blue like the center of a flame and shades of purple and navy flicker down arms and legs and lick around the neck. Only when the last of the orange dies away does the ice begin to crack, shattering when the figure within stretches and stands. 

"I'm blue," Pepper says, barely above a whisper. 

"Only cosmetic," Loki reassures her, holding out his own hand and allowing his true skin to show through before fading it away again. "And temporary." 

The projected image of Pepper before them sweeps a hand before her and the remaining ice splinters into shards small enough to melt away in moments. Once the ice is gone, her flesh reverts to its previous color. 

"Were my eyes red? They looked red," she says, gripping the edge of the table. 

Loki sighs. "The iris, yes. Another -" 

"Cosmetic side effect?" 

"Yes." 

She turns on him then. "Why didn't Tony tell me about this? Why you?"

"Because, in his guilt, he expects miracles." Loki folds his hands in his lap. "But what is done can never be entirely undone. I offer you, instead, not a miracle but a chance to live a relatively normal, peaceful, if lengthy, life." He hands her a Starkpad with the estimated physical and psychological changes.

She swipes through page after page of the report until she stops at the summary. "You've really thought this through."

"I am intimately acquainted with the workings of my own DNA." Loki offers a small, if somewhat bitter, smile. 

"That's you?"

"Only a small portion. Enough to replace the elemental nature of Extremis with something less destructive." 

"What's the catch?" She puts down the Starkpad and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Nervous, Loki thinks, but already so tempted. 

"You will need to learn to master your new skills," Loki says, careful not to drive her away. "And Stark may not be pleased with us," he adds in what may be the understatement of the year, even for him. 

Pepper huffs out a laugh. "Well that will make two of us. I'm not exactly pleased with him right now, either." She drums her fingers on the he opposite bicep, curls of light dancing under her skin. "It's safe?" 

"You may confirm with Jarvis." 

"Statistical probability of success stands at 98.2 percent, Miss Potts. 1.7% chance of simple failure, and .01% of catastrophic failure." 

Pepper takes a deep breath and let's it out, eyes closed. She continues to breathe slowly until the flames beneath her skin calm once more. "What do I need to do?" 

"Stand up here, on the platform." Loki offers his arm to Pepper. "And have faith in me for only a little while, then it will all be over." He flinches at the heat under her skin when she takes his arm.

"Don't make me regret this." 

Loki rests his hands on her shoulders, guiding her to lie comfortably on the platform. "I have given my word not to harm you."

He returns to the controls, adjusting the range of field to accommodate her. 

"Tony's going to kill me," she breathes, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Have faith, Miss Potts," Loki says, "I firmly believe he will attempt to kill me first, providing you ample time to make your escape."

She laughs, covering her eyes with her hands. "You are so weird. So... Not what I expected."

"We all have hidden depths. Last chance to change your mind," he says for the look of the thing. They both know her mind is made up. Loki is no stranger to finding oneself with only one way out of an unacceptable corner. 

"No. Go ahead." She flexes her fingers against her palms. "Let's get this over with." 

"Of course." Loki types in his passcode. "Take a deep breath. This may sting a bit."


	7. Interlude: Pepper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pepper has no answers and Loki becomes more of a mystery.

It's not often Pepper acts on impulse. That's more Tony's thing. In fact, that was entirely Tony's thing. Pepper was the level headed one. The rational one. The one who planned her lunches for the week every Sunday and kept her entire collection of shoes so immaculately arranged by color and heel height that she could find any pair in a blackout.

None of this explained why she had answered Jarvis's call to the lab and allowed Loki - the same Loki who almost destroyed New York and once through Tony out a window - to, oh, fundamentally alter her DNA. Not even reassurance from Jarvis should have made her set foot in that room, much less take Loki up on his offer. 

And yet. 

She swirls a fingertip in her iced tea and watches the ice crystals form behind its path. 

And yet, that.

There's a knock on the he door and she hastily pulls her finger out of the tea, wiping her hands on a napkin before calling out. "Come in."

"You okay, Boss?" Happy only cranes his neck through the doorway, hovering awkwardly against the frame. 

"I'm fine, Happy. Thank you." She pushes the iced tea away from her on the desk. "Did you want something?"

"No. Uh, yeah, but not me, per se." He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, comes in, and shuts the door "It's just, there's talk, you know?" 

"There is always talk surrounding Tony Stark," Pepper says in a tone that suggests Happy should already know that. 

"I mean talk about you. Or, you and him." 

"Also nothing terribly new." There had been talk about them since before there was a "them" to talk about, and would continue being a subject of talk long after they parted ways. It was something she'd made her peace with before Tony even went to Afghanistan.

But Happy's not done. "Like, trouble in paradise talk." 

Pepper raises her eyebrows. "Happy, are you honestly trying to give me relationship advice?"

"No! No way! It's just, nobody's seen him in ages. And then I'm driving you home and picking you up from that place in Park Slope every day, and everybody knows Tony's still living in the tower." He trails off. "It just hasn't been the same since the Malibu place got trashed again." 

"He's working on things," Pepper says, just a little too quickly and defensively before reminding herself to take a deep breath. "We're working on things," she corrects herself. "I'm working on my things, and he's working on his things. It's a lot of...work." Even she has to admit its not strong as defenses go. 

"So there really is? Happy sinks down into his chair. "Trouble?" 

Pepper sighs, looking out the window. "No more than usual. Or ever, really. Listen, Happy, I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. Tony's fine. And anything else is nobody's business but ours. So please, tell the people who are talking to stop unless they want me to ask Jarvis to find out who's talking and pass the recordings along to Tony."

"What happens if they go to Tony?"

"Let's put it this way. He has no understanding at all of how difficult it is to replace good administrative personnel." She taps her computer screen, bringing it back up to the article she'd been reading before she couldn't distract herself with it anymore. "I do, therefore, I'll overlook it." She pins Happy with her CEO stare. "As long as it stops."

"I'll pass on the word, Boss."

"Thank you." 

Happy gets up to leave and hesitates before opening the door. "But if you're ever not alright...?"

Pepper favors him with a small smile. "I'll let you know if there's anything you can do."

"Right. You... Take care of that work."

"Workaholic. That's me."

It's only when Happy leaves that she rubs both hands over her face and presses her fingertips against her eyelids. 

"Workaholic. God, Pepper, where did that even come from?" Sadly, the office has no answers, and neither does she. 

She picks up the phone and hits speed dial. "Yes, Miss Potts?"

"Hi Jarvis. Can you keep a close eye on Tony?" She massages her temples. "And Loki. Especially Loki."

"He has been the model houseguest until now," Jarvis reports. "Is there anything in particular I should be alert for?"

"Just if Tony seems weird? Oh god, weirder than usual. Just un-Tonyish around him." She's not even sure what Loki could be doing without his magic. 

"At the moment, he is in the lab drunkenly shouting at him, Miss Potts," Jarvis says. "I think you will agree that this is relatively normal Tony Stark behavior." 

Pepper has to admit it is. But... "What's he yelling at him about?" She has an uncomfortable feeling she knows. 

"It appears that Mr. Stark does not appreciate Mr. Laufeyson's interference in your recovery." There is a longish pause. "Mr. Laufeyson is insisting that your cooperation, and even presence, were not necessary to effect the cure, and Mr. Stark is accusing him of gross hypocrisy."

"But not in so many words."

"That is correct. His choice of phrasing is considerably more colorful."

"Please try to keep them from killing each other."

"Of course, Miss Potts."

Pepper hangs up the phone and stands up from the desk, going to lie down on the low couch occupying the floor before a sleek coffee table. It doesn't make Loki's motivations any less a mystery, but it will, hopefully, help the massive headache she feels coming on because of him.

Would it honestly kill anyone living in the tower to occasionally make some kind of sense?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's been reading, bookmarking, subscribing, kudoing, and commenting. Your comments, especially, make my day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony does what Tony does when nobody's around to stop him. It's not that nobody's around. It's that nobody stops him. 
> 
> Loki reveals a piece of his agenda. 
> 
> Tony has an unhappy revelation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's the deal. My writing is finally picking up speed, but I'm still at the stage where I get discouraged by radio silence after posting. The wonderful response to Asgard's Worthiest Matchmaker has been a huge shot in the arm for my creativity. 
> 
> I admit freely that hearing back from readers has a huge effect on how fast chapters come. That's not bribery, it's a confession after years of denial. There's a real correlation there. So, if you enjoy the story, please take a moment to kudo, and if you comment, I will be ecstatic, and probably write a little more right then and there. 
> 
> So, this story now has legs, after far too long. To those of you who are new to it, the chapters on this one alternate between Tony and Loki's POV with a few guest views and tend to be on the short side. I hope that means they'll be more frequent.

They've retreated to their corners, or at least Tony has. He has no idea where Loki retreated to, and he doesn't care. No, that's a lie. He wants to know where Loki is so he can accuse him some more. He's aware there's a finite supply of accusation he can fling at Loki before the Pepper well runs dry, but he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

A phone call to Fury did fuck-all, because when that guy goes off the grid, he's a ghost. And Tony pretty much is the grid. Or something.

So here he is, laying on the couch, staring resentfully at the bar because that's exactly the stupid cliche kind of thing everyone expects Tony Stark to do, and he's feeling the need to double down on his right to be a stubborn asshole. 

Unfortunately, he's gotten it into his head that this stubborn asshole isn't going to do the predictable thing. 

God, he wants a drink. 

But he's not giving Loki that kind of satisfaction. 

'Do you honestly think her safety is best held in the unsteady hands of a drunkard?' 

No, he doesn't, and fuck Loki for asking. So he has a few to take the edge off. That doesn't make him a drunkard - it makes him a Stark. And his dad built half the modern world tipsy on expensive scotch. And whatever followed it.

Anyway, safety is for other people. Tony is ALWAYS safe when it comes to other people. Especially when those other people are Pepper. Loki, on the other hand, is a reckless asshole. An incompetent reckless asshole. Whereas Tony Stark is a responsible asshole. Tony could show him a thing or three in the reckless assholery department. 

Huh. Why not?

"Jarvis, fire up the V2 Mark 3."

"Sir, the safety protocols have yet to be configured for the Mark 3's speed and relative power." 

"Yeah, yeah, Mark 3 go fast. I can drive, J. Meet me on the platform." 

"I strongly recommend against testing the Mark 3 in manned flight." 

"Objection noted. Now come on. I haven't got all day." He does, in point of fact, have all day, and all night, and all the next week, too, but he's never let that get in the way of scheduling a little reckless self-endangerment. "Time's a wasting." 

"Shall we test Mark 3's resilience against the pavement, sir?" 

"I'm pretty sure I can still deprogram your sarcasm, you know," Tony says and heads out onto the platform, the Mark 3's sleek lines flowing up his legs as he walks. "You'd be lost without it." 

"You would miss it within a week." Jarvis' tone is decidedly snippy, but Tony finds it hard to care, what with the completely awesome feeling of nanotech molding itself seamlessly to his body in motion. 

"So don't make me find out," he tells Jarvis "You're supposed to protect me from these things, you know," he says and throws himself off the tower with a whoop. Wind stings his eyes before he lowers the faceplate into place and the HUD glows around him, layering all those things he's not supposed to know over his view of New York. 

Back entrances. 

Side exits. 

Hidden rooms. 

Loki in the spare room. 

Spider Man in class. 

Illuminati meeting in the basement of the Y. (Fuck them for not inviting him, seriously.) 

Deadpool eating a hotdog. 

Okay, so it's overkill. But he doesn't like being surprised. Sue him. 

If you can catch him. 

Otherwise, sue his company, and his company will own your butt. 

It all boils down to one thing: Tony Stark is free as a bird and this world has not yet invented the net that can contain him. Especially now. 

Because the Mark 3 is fast. Like, really fast. Swoops, loops, dives, and rattling the windows on the Baxter building during a fly-by. And the tech in Tony's head glitches when he banks a turn too fast, but whatever. It's warning him when to bank the turn. It'll do. 

"I am BACK, bitches!" He crows to the sky and throws his arms wide, knows he's flashing in the sun and drawing all eyes upward. It is exactly the kind of grandstanding Rhodey's always warning him against, precisely the kind Pepper hates. And that's just too bad, because this is who Tony Stark is. Tony Stark is an inveterate grandstander. And he will grandstand with the best of them. 

"Hey Jarvis. What's the altitude?" 

"11,200 feet and climbing, sir. Which you would know if you had run a systems diagnostic before takeoff and detected the -" 

"Great. I'll be home for dinner, honey." Tony tips forward and throws himself into a spiraling dive, laughing all the way. He drills into the Upper Bay with a splash he can feel through the armor and skips across the freshly dredged bottom, rattling him only like the man in a can can.

Ha.

Can Can Man. He cracks himself up. 

Through the ringing in his ears, he hears Jarvis' voice. "Sir? Sir!" 

"I'm okay!" 

"Suit integrity degraded 14.6% under maximum g forces during your dive. Would you like to hear your medical assessment?" 

He's pretty sure he wouldn't, actually. "Uh." 

"I would not advise attempting that maneuver again, sir. At least, not until a suitable compression feature is fully integrated into the armor." 

That's... actually fair enough. His ears are still ringing. "Got it." He swishes his arms in the water to dislodge sediment from his joints and pushes off the bottom with considerably less thrust than he used going in. 

His trajectory back to Stark Tower borders on the sedate and there's a definite suggestion of gingerness to his landing on the platform. 

"Are you through showing off, sir?" 

"I'm - " Not showing off. He stops to consider that. No. He was completely showing off. "Yeah. For the time being. Let's work on tightening up the compression function and getting the altimeter back on line." He shivers at the wind whipping the cuffs of his jeans around his legs. The flowing sensation of nanotechnology is a lot creepier to take off than it is to put on. "There's a glitch to the in-flight cooperative diagnostics when I bank. Work on it."

He should just ignore the slow clapping demigod in the doorway, but it's a long walk across the platform, and pretending to ignore Loki for that long takes more energy than he has left. 

"Was that for my benefit?" Loki asks once Tony's close enough to hear with his pathetic human hearing. (Okay - he might be projecting.) 

"Pfft. You think I'd waste a million-plus dollar test flight on a house guest?" It's the best come-back Tony has at the moment. 

He wants to ignore Loki saying, "You have before." 

But he doesn't. "Yeah, those weren't house guests," he says before he can give himself time to ask why Loki knows about that. He brushes past Loki into the living room and pulls on the hoodie waiting for him on the couch. It's big. Stupid-big. But it's comfortable. That's where he's living these days. 

"No?" Loki asks unnecessarily, because Tony's giving him an earful regardless. 

"Nope," Tony says, zipping the hoodie with a jerk. "Those were people I cared about impressing. When I have a 'house guest' that means it's a person other people want me to impress. I don't do impressive on somebody else's schedule."

"It was impressive," Loki says, with evident sincerity Tony is reasonably sure is only there to piss him off. 

"Good for you," Tony says inanely, heading straight to the bar. This isn't going the way he imagined. He isn't sure what he imagined. It was either getting into a pissing match with Loki over who was more brilliant or rubbing Loki's nose in his undeniable superiority. 

Neither of those is happening. 

And Tony still isn't in a place for option three where they talk about the resolution of the Pepper issue, because then Tony is contractually required to beat Loki to a pulp, and powers or no powers, he's more than sure he needs his suit for that. And Pepper's blessing. Or something. Or giving up on Pepper, and he's not ready for one, and his suit's not ready for the other. 

So he does the Stark thing and pours himself a drink. "Want anything?"

Loki bellies up to the bar like a pro on the prowl, and Tony's not sure what to make of that. "Bourbon, cherry, no ice." 

"Weirdo." Tony makes the drink strong and slides it across to Loki. 

"I am not of your world," Loki reminds him unnecessarily.

"Which makes you even more of a freak," Tony says, pouring himself a bourbon. He doesn't actually care what he pours. The bourbon just happens to be what's there. He takes the full tumbler and makes his way to the couch. "Why are you even here?"

"Agreement between the Allfather and Midgard," Loki says, deadpan. 

"No. I mean, here. You did your thing with Pepper. She's happy. She's grateful. Why aren't you hanging out with her?" 

"She is in California." Loki takes a sip of his drink and leans against the bar. It's like he's there just to make Tony's life awkward. He wouldn't even bet against that. 

"So ask her over. You can braid each other's hair." Tony flicks on the TV and takes a deep drink. He knows he's being an asshole, but he's being a post-flight asshole, and that's responsible in his book. 

"I have no interest in Pepper Potts other than the resolution of her troubles which were taking up a disproportionate amount of your time and energy." Loki takes a sip, probably just for the look of the thing. "My interest is in you." 

Great. "Well, that makes one of us." Tony resists the urge to turn and look at Loki. He watches his reflection in the window instead. "And my interest is in Pepper." 

"Is it," Loki says. 

"Yeah." Tony takes a long drink. 

"Then why are you not braiding her hair?" Loki asks, and Tony's not sure how he manages to put air quotes around the phrase without lifting a finger. 

He is sure he resents it. "We're taking a break," he says for the first time. And for the first time, he realizes it sounds right. 

"We're taking a break," he says again, just to make sure he heard it correctly the first time.

"Oh," Loki says, and that's that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki has a nightmare and decides it's time to appeal to Tony's lusts. Tony just wants to go back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll spare y'all the boring health-related deets. Here's the good news: I'm not dead yet, and neither is this story.

Loki knows well enough to leave Tony alone for the most part after his likely unintended confession. He also sticks to his declaration and leaves Pepper alone, as well, save for a brief phone call confirming the stability of her altered physique. 

If he's honest (and occasionally he is) he's disappointed that Tony isn't more interested in studying Pepper, or even Loki himself. 

It's been a long time since Loki was good at false modesty, and he knows his work is impressive. Someone like Tony should recognize the genius inherent in both the theory and execution.

Realism, fortunately, still comes easily to him, and realistically, as far as Tony is concerned, Loki is a burden foisted upon him by an uncaring world. One more duty he never asked for after he's done playing the hero. He has no reason to believe Loki won't kill him as soon as look at him once this arrangement is over. 

So, that's two more challenges to be overcome before one Tony Stark is likely to contemplate helping Loki with more than the required courtesies. Fortunately, these two challenges present him with one neat solution. 

Appeal to the man's lusts. 

Drink would be simple, but there is a thorny maze of self-loathing beneath that surface that Loki has no desire to touch. Power and wealth would be easy to promise, but he seems to have all he wants.

Loki shrugs inwardly. It wouldn't be the first time he's tempted a mortal the old fashioned way. 

 

"Whoa! What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

Loki is vaguely impressed. He's never seen a man scoot to the furthest corner of the bed that quickly, and he's been in some very tightly confined beds. With some very startled bed partners. 

He remains where he is, cheek propped on one hand, regarding Tony from atop his bedclothes. "I had a nightmare," he says, simply, ingenuous. 

It's a ridiculous excuse for a grown man, and even more ridiculous for a god, which means that it must be true. The expression on Tony's face confirms that it's ridiculous for a dangerous house guest in peril, too. Pity, Loki had been hoping to play the peril card. It was so often a useful shortcut "You've got to be kidding me." 

The room is dark, save for an arc reactor-blue line of light glowing along the corner edge where the ceiling meets the wall. It provides just enough light to illuminate his shrug of "what can you do?" He spreads his hands. "Not this time. It was terrible."

Tony throws an arm across his eyes as if he needs to block out even the dim blue light in order to process this. 

"You," Tony points at him, "a thousand year-old god, had a nightmare." Loki nods his confirmation. "And you want to, what, snuggle with me until you fall asleep so it won't come back again?"

"If you would be so kind," Loki says, with absolute sincerity. As a matter of fact, he had been caught in a nightmare. There was a time, centuries ago, when he would have crawled into Thor's bed, and stayed there until Mother found them both in the morning. He always stole the covers. "I promise not to steal the covers," Loki lies. 

"This is ridiculous," Tony mutters, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow, evidentially too tired to argue the point. 

"Thank you," Loki says, slipping beneath the covers with a decorous distance between them. "Your hospitality is more than I anticipated." He pauses long enough for effect before adding a quiet, "Or deserve," on the end. If not winsome peril, perhaps pity. 

It's not long before Tony lets out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan muffled into his pillow. "You can stay," Tony says, "but only if you cut it out with the self pity."

Loki raises his eyebrows. He had been expecting a certain amount of sympathy. Not that he deserved it, but it has been his experience that a raw, vulnerable confession like that in the dark elicits an automatic comforting response. "Only truth," he says, testing the boundaries of this unanticipated result of the experiment. 

Tony sits up and points warningly to the door. "I'm serious. This is a strict no self-pity zone in here." 

Loki abandons the tactic and files the results away for later examination. He's curious. "Does that apply to you?" 

"Yes. Always. Everyone." Tony rolls over and buries his face into the pillow, whether to shut out the light, Loki, or intrusive thoughts. "Stay or go. I don't care. I'm asleep." 

"You are not." 

"Yes I am. Deeply asleep. Dreamless, blissful, sleep." 

Loki waits a suitable length of time before singing under his breath, "Liar." 

A single raised digit snakes it's way out from under the covers to flip him an obscene gesture, and Loki chuckles to himself. 

The experiment did not yield the optimal or expected results, but he can work with this. It might even pass the time. 

"I can feel you staring at me," Tony says after a while. "Just so you know, it's very creepy and doing fuck all to endear you to me, which, for whatever unholy evil reason, you are clearly trying to do." 

"Nightmare," Loki says, deadpan. "I doubt I could possibly sleep again tonight after the horror of it. But your presence is bringing me great comfort in my time of need. Thank you." 

Tony yanks the pillow on Loki's side of the bed out from under his elbow and pulls it over his head, effectively muffling himself inside a pillow sandwich. "Whatever." 

Loki is beginning to suspect that the best way through Tony's defenses is to ignore them. It seems to work for Tony himself. "It's not every prisoner who can count on luxurious accommodations and the personal protection of one of the world's greatest heroes." 

A sigh emerges from within the pillow sandwich and Tony emerges. "Okay." He rubs his hands over his face and says it again. "Okay. So we're doing this. Number one: Thor is your brother. Heroes are nothing new to you. Number two: I'm not a hero. Number three: I'm only doing this because I have to." 

"Duty is a heavy burden," Loki agrees with false sympathy. 

"Duty has nothing to do with it." 

"Surely a man of your means cannot be forced to do anything he doesn't want." Admittedly, he has wondered about that a time or two in his brief stay. 

"Damn right I can't be forced." Tony draws his knees up and rests his elbows on them. "So, you tell me, since you're here, in my bed, determined to mine all of my deepest, darkest secrets. Why am I giving you free room and board?" 

Loki narrows his eyes and considers the possibilities. "Duty is out," he muses, willing to take Tony at face-value. "I assume loyalty has as little appeal to your sensibilities?" 

"Assume away," Tony says, and Loki decides that's agreement enough. 

"Not force... Surely, not coercion?" It's been his best theory to date, and interesting to ponder. How would one coerce Tony Stark without rousing his fiery vengeance? 

"I haven't tuned anyone into a smoking hole in the ground lately, so I'm gonna go with 'no' on that one, too." Tony is watching him in the dim light, and Loki wonders if that reminder of Tony's less than helplessness was deliberate. 

"It must be love," Loki says with no inflection whatsoever. Sometimes, it's just best to let the other party apply the inflection themselves. 

Tony goes for sarcasm and a dramatic hand to his chest. "My torrid affair with Nick Fury aside, love had nothing to do with it." He flexes his fingers, weaving them together. "Somehow, I thought you'd be better at these guessing games." 

"I am," Loki says, laying aside the innate urge to toy with mortal men and going with his instincts. "You just don't give a shit." 

"Now that's cold. I was starting to enjoy the game," Tony says after the barest flicker of surprise. 

"That is the final move in the game," Loki says. "My answer to how you were convinced to take me in: you just don't give a shit." 

"Ding, ding, ding," Tony rings an imaginary bell. "Give the God of Lies, Mischief, and Chaos a great big stuffed teddy bear. Now that you've had your bedtime snack of lies, mischief, and chaos, will you go back to your own bed?" 

"Nightmare," Loki reminds him, content enough to remain where he is until Tony kicks him out. "And I didn't lie," he adds as an afterthought. "Did you?" 

Tony ignores that in favor of a new plea. "How about sleep? Is sleep too much to ask?" 

Loki finds that it is. "I will remain quiet if I may stay here." 

Tony regards him in silence long enough to make Loki wonder what's going through his mind. He shakes his head and lies back down, pulling the covers up to his neck and nestling his head into the pillow more comfortably. "Yeah, sure. Okay." 

In the blue-lit dimness, Loki quietly discards his two previous challenges to overcome and replaces them with a new, higher priority challenge if he wants Tony's help in figuring out the egg. 

How to make Tony Stark give a shit.


End file.
